Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
